Archive for March, 2014

Be born again, be born again, the Preacher kept screaming into her ears, standing directly in front of her. She rolled her eyes and went back to reading her book.
His voice kept filtering into her thoughts and soon she found herself grinding her teeth to hide her irritation. It did not help that the woman sitting near her kept shouting AMEN! to everything he said.
Why couldn’t he carry his preaching to a church and let everyone travel in peace, she wondered peevishly. She raised her head and using her fingers, combed her weave where resting it on the headboard of the chair had matted it.
As if looking for a target, he pounced on her singular movement.
“Some girls of today! They worship the devil with their hair and nails! Queens of the coast! Agbara Persia! May their powers be destroyed in Jesus name!”
The woman sitting next to her directed her loud amen to her, staring at her as if waiting to be confronted.
The girl snorted under her breath, ignoring them.
“I cast and bind the Devil laughing at our prayers in Jesus name!”
The amens were so loud, it woke up the snoring man seated on the opposite row. He banged his head, startled and with an annoyed shouted asked the Preacher to shut up.
“Watch and Pray so that you will not fall! Stop sleeping!” the Preacher shouted, to roars of laughter and Amens.
The man hissed, eyeing the short man clutching a tattered bible to his chest, clad in a suit two sizes too big, a sweating, preaching caricature.
Deciding he wasn’t worth his time, he closed his eyes and promptly went back to sleep.
She groaned inwardly, swearing to herself never to transport her goods via Chisco ever again.
The hallelujahs continued and Amens followed until he mentioned donation and suddenly the woman sitting beside her went quiet, suddenly absorbed by the rolling scenery outside.
Unable to help herself, she turned. “Shey you no go donate? Una wey sabi scream AMEN. Oya na!”
The woman eyed her, hissing theatrically as she mumbled about girls who didn’t know have respect for their elders.
Finally, the bus rolled to a stop and eager to be on her way, she jumped down and with help, pulled her box out of the carriage.
Good riddance.
Soon, she was home and eager to look through her purchases, she opened her box.
And screamed.
Lined neatly, were heads of three children, each in a clear bag.

He got home and eager to check his purchases, he opened his box.
Lined neatly were bundles and bundles of weaves.
The Preacher looked at the box in confusion.